A Thousand Worlds Between Us
by The Loud Guy
Summary: With the threat to the world ended, Selena is confident in the safety of the people she has fought alongside for all of these years. It's time to return to the place she calls home, but before she goes she promised she would say goodbye. Follow-up to Coming Home: /s/11968373/1/Coming-Home


Grey were the dawns of Nohr, a breed removed from the sun that had shone over Ylisse, or even the light that had pierced the darkness of a world long dead. Grey were the dawns of Nohr, the true mien of a country that had learned to embrace the dark, and grey was the light that filtered in through the queen's window as Selena opened the door to Camilla's room.

She pushed it open quietly, slowly, wondering if her lady might be asleep—but she wasn't, of course she wasn't, because Queen Camilla slept early and rose early whenever she could. She was sitting at the window, looking out as the sky lightened by the few shades that it ever could.

"Lady Camilla?" It should have been Queen, and in public it was, but when they were alone it was Lady, just like always. "You're awake already, huh?"

"Good morning, Selena." The queen's voice was muffled, ever so slightly, by the thin iron mask that she had taken to wearing after their collective fight with Anankos. The scarring left on her face had been deep and ugly, though not what Selena would have called _disfiguring_ ; Camilla had a bone structure and facial shape that lent her a striking regality through the scarring, making her imposing where anyone else would have been hideous. Lucky her. "Are you ready to get started?"

"Aren't I always?" She stepped into the room, shut the door behind her. She was carrying a basket in one hand, full of tinctures and brushes and salves, and she set this on the table next to her lady, carefully arranging them, double checking to make sure everything was there. "I pretty much _have_ to be. Can't have anybody thinking you have a lazy retainer, can I?"

"I suppose you can't." The mask was shaped to look like her face had been before the scarring, but whatever fool craftsman responsible for it had crafted it with a perfectly neutral expression instead of the soft, mysterious smile that would have been proper. Selena could see that smile, now, behind the mask. Or, you know, imagine it. "I will try to be still today."

"Oh, please. As if you need to try. You're always very good about your grooming." That came out as a whine, but she meant it as a compliment, was confident that Lady Camilla took it the right way. In private, she didn't need to watch herself; she had been tending to her lady's morning routine since coming to Nohr all those years ago, and in that space she had grown more and more comfortable being herself. A bit dangerous, maybe, but Lady Camilla made her feel safe. Things were slightly different now, though.

Since becoming queen—or earlier, Selena thought, it had probably started when Lord Xander died, with the fight that had given her those scars—Lady Camilla had taken to covering herself in private. She was wearing a soft cotton robe and long gloves, and the robe had a hood which she had pulled up over her scalp, so that the mask looked out from shadow. In public she didn't wear any of that, showed her face and her scars, bore the armor and crown of her station, but in private she covered herself, didn't show any skin at all if she could help it. Selena had tried to talk to her about it, didn't she know how _worried_ all of this made her, but the queen wouldn't speak on this point. It was the one spot she would not let Selena touch.

Selena pulled the hood back. "Your hair's looking very good this morning," she said, and it was true, but Lady Camilla did not respond. It was still short, no longer than a finger, but it was thick and well-colored and the scarring on her scalp had closed up enough that you wouldn't notice the gaps unless you got as close as Selena was now. She took one of the bottles of tincture, spread it on her hands, and worked it along the entire length of her lady's lilac hair, from root to tip, getting every strand. Then she combed through it, using as fine-toothed a comb as the kingdom could produce, and did not stop until the queen's hair shone like a mirror.

Gently, carefully she removed the queen's mask, going through a regimen of lotions and tonics that were rubbed into her unmarked skin, her scars, both together, on and on. Camilla's eyes stayed closed through all of this, and she did not react to the strong smells of any of the medicines.

"The scars are progressing _really_ nicely. If you keep to this routine, then inside of a year they'll be practically invisible." Well, they'd be silvered and closer to the tone of the rest of Camilla's skin, but they'd never be invisible, never stop showing whenever the queen's face was anything except for perfectly neutral, but Selena did not say that. The paste she spread on the deep ravine of scar tissue running from her lady's left eye to the corner of her mouth was thick, white, and smelled of menthol. "I mean, obviously being under _my_ care is helping speed things along, but your recuperative powers are amazing."

"Thank you, dear."

It continued like that: the scarring covered the queen's upper chest, her arms, her hands, but hadn't extended any lower. She finished applying the strong medicines to Lady Camilla's face and then replaced her mask for her, removed her robe to work on her arms, her shoulders, her chest, on and on. All told, just the application of the medicines took the better part of an hour, but Selena didn't mind. There was a meditative quality to it, in the work itself and in her nearness to the woman she had been serving for so long. Doing this for her made her feel needed, secure in her place.

That that feeling ended today made her chest clench.

After she was finished she packed up all of her medicines, her tinctures, her combs, and covered the basket with cloth. Normally she would have said she was done, but the energy for that had been drained out of her today. She'd been wrestling with the possibility of not telling Camilla, of just disappearing without a word and letting the mystery of her disappearance lead everyone to their own conclusions, but... she'd made a promise, hadn't she?

"Lady Camilla." The queen did not turn to look at her, continued looking out the window. She was so sad, now, and adding to that was more than Selena could bear to think about. So, she decided, she'd better not think. "I need to talk to you about—"

"You're leaving me," the queen said. She did look, then, the deep purple of her eyes shining from behind the holes in her mask.

"You're... not surprised." Well, that surprised _Selena_.

"Selena, my darling. You have a stout heart, and you are sweet, but you are terrible at keeping secrets. I have known for three days you were planning to leave."

"Oh." She'd only come to the decision with Odin and Laslow _yesterday!_ "Then... you know I'm going to go back. Back to where, where I came from?"

"Yes," Camilla said, and for the first time in a long time Selena realized she could not read her at all. "You're going home."

"I, uh... yeah, I guess I am." She swallowed, realized she was nervous, tried to fight that down. Why should she be nervous? Camilla was a grown woman, and wise and kind, even if she _was_ possessive and clingy and scary at the best of times and the last few months had _not_ been the best of times. "You... you understand, don't you? It's not because I don't like it here. I do. Serving you has been one of the greatest experiences of my life. But I have to—"

Camilla held up her hand, and Selena's voice caught in her throat. "You don't owe me an explanation, my darling." That same neutral tone, the words framed so she couldn't understand their meaning.

"I... I drew up a list of all the medicines we've been using. So someone else can bring them to you. I tried to... tried to make sure you were taken care of." _Because I won't be taking care of you anymore_.

"Someone will pick up your work. Do not fear." A pause, then, words turned over and over before they were spoken. "If you must go, then go quietly, and speak to no one of this. Take what provisions you need, with my blessing. I'll give you a letter for acquiring supplies, if you wish it." Selena shook her head; she'd taken enough, more than enough, had been given too much already. "The important thing is that you go, and you don't look back."

"What do you—"

"Selena. If you have to leave, if you do not intend to return, then do not tell Beruka." The queen rose from her seat, and she was so tall, even just in slippers. "If you have any love for her, do not tell her that you will be gone. Let it be a mystery to her, because the questions she will have will not be as painful for her as the truth."

"I... I understand, Lady Camilla." At least, she thought she did. Beruka would be hurt by her leaving, sure, that was to be expected, who _wouldn't_ miss her when she was gone? But she and Beruka were friends, and not telling her would feel like an even bigger betrayal than just leaving.

A long silence stretched out between them, and Lady Camilla's eyes were bright and intense and Selena could not look at the mask that was between them so she looked at her feet, shifting her weight back and forth, from heel to toe. She couldn't hide much, but she wondered if the queen had already figured out she wouldn't follow her advice. Probably. Maybe it didn't matter.

"I'm... I'm going now. Thank you, Lady Camilla, for everything." She turned, opened to door.

"Selena." She stopped, looked over her shoulder, and for a moment she thought that Camilla would wish her farewell, tell her how much she loved her and would miss her, how grateful she was that the two of them had known each other for these years. For that moment she hoped, believing in sweet goodbyes, and then the Queen spoke. "I'm sorry."

She said nothing.

"I'm sorry that I could not make my kingdom into a home for you." _I'm sorry I could not help you love me as I loved you_. The words were clear; Selena heard them, though they went unspoken.

She turned away, not trusting herself to speak, and shut the door behind her.

* * *

"What do you mean you're leaving?"

They'd found Beruka in the training yard, sparring with that giant lug Benny as a warm-up for her morning session with Lady Camilla. Beruka was her junior by a few years, but she was also the closest thing Selena had to a rival in this world, and her closest friend outside of the two men who were at her back. She looked back at them now, and they offered nothing. She needed better friends, clearly.

"I mean I'm... leaving! Gods, I thought that would kind of communicate everything?"

Beruka, even when talking idly, checked the condition of her weapon, eyeing the edge of her axe, thumbing the binding of its handle. "It did not. Are you going on a mission?" The younger woman stopped, looked at her, then looked past her at Laslow and Odin, apparently found them wanting. "If you need help, I will petition Queen Camilla to allow me to accompany you. We stand a better chance at succeeding when we work together."

"I couldn't take you away from her," Selena said, the words tumbling out so fast she couldn't catch them. That was _not_ what she'd meant to say.

"Better if we finish quickly, then. I'll ask if Benny may accompany us as well. If the five of us work in tandem, then perhaps-"

"Beruka, hold on a second! Gods, the one time in your entire life you get so chatty and it has to be right now." She pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes, breathed. "OK, look. When I say I'm leaving, I don't mean I'm going out for a walk, or on a mission. I'm leaving for _good_. Going back to my homeland." She let go, looked at the wyvern rider. "You see?"

The axe hit the ground, its handle kicking up a splash of water as it dropped into the mud. The hand that had held it was shaking, even from a distance of ten paces she could see how it was shaking.

"Now. You're leaving _now_." Nothing in her face, but Beruka was shaking, her voice even more than her hands. " _Now_ , when Lady Camilla needs our support more than ever, you are abandoning us. Abandoning her."

"I'm not abandoning anyone!" But no, that was not true, and the untruth of it called up a boiling fluid in her throat. "Or, I mean—she's not without support, is she? She has you. Nowadays she has the entire _kingdom_ to support her."

"She has the entire kingdom on her shoulders." A hiss, now, as Beruka knelt, picked up her axe, wiped the blade clean on her trousers. "A weight she barely comprehended before the crown was put on her head, and every day she loses more and more of the pillars that have been her strength. Lord Xander is dead, Lady Corrin has fled to Hoshido, Lady Elise is growing apart from her, every day more noble families petition her for favor or try to pressure her to act and legislate according to their will, _every day_ she carries more of the world on her back, and you want to leave her _now_."

Her first reaction was to flinch in the face of Beruka's fury, which burned so hot it was like a physical force radiating off of her, seeping out of her very skin. She had a point, didn't she? All of what she'd said was true, and Selena couldn't argue with the first word of it.

But you know what, no, forget that and forget her, if Beruka wanted to have at it then Selena wasn't going to be the one to back down from a fight. Benny, who had walked closer at hearing Beruka's distress, saw the look on Selena's face and stepped back. Laslow and Odin were backing away behind her, she could _hear_ them, and honestly she had expected that out of them anyway. Laslow hadn't bothered telling Peri he was leaving, and Odin was so big a coward he hadn't even said goodbye to Lord Leo. Let both of them keep to that, just run from all of their fights and their problems because in a few days they wouldn't have to deal with it. Not her, not _ever_.

"You want to hash this out? _Fine_. We can hash it out. Why don't you cut out the garbage and say what's _really_ eating at you, and we can discuss this like adults?"

"I _told_ you—"

"Nuh-uh. Not buying it. This isn't just about Lady Camilla. When you get down to it this is me choosing to leave, choosing to go _home_. The crisis is over, Beruka! The war's ended, Anankos is dead, and as near as _I_ can tell nobody's going to be making any moves toward killing any of us anytime soon. Why shouldn't I go back to where I belong?"

Her anger evaporated as the words left her mouth, her indignation dried up like a worm on a hot stone. Too far. Damnation, too far by half, she could see it written in Beruka's face as the other woman stood there, blinking, at a loss for words. Few things ever gave the assassin pause, and she could see the well of hurt in her eyes long before Beruka spoke.

"I thought... I thought you belonged here. We worked together. We worked together for years to make this a place where we could both belong, both of us strangers. We clung to each other like rafts after a shipwreck. This is my home, and you helped make it that way." She pulled down the neck of her scarf, reached underneath the folds of the fabric, drew out a ring of bright blue stone looped onto a long, thin chain. "Isn't that what this was? A symbol of our devotion?"

Selena took off her glove, looked at her own ring—red, deep red, red the color of her mother's hair. Beruka wore hers on a chain because it was dangerous to wear jewelry in combat, but Selena couldn't bring herself to do that. "Yeah. Something we'd always remember each other by. So we wouldn't—"

Steel broke as Beruka pulled hard enough to snap the clasp of her necklace. She held it up, the ring sparkling even in that dim light, and the chain dangled delicately off the fingers of her gauntlet. Selena's eyes were locked there as the ring turned back and forth, back and forth.

"You are leaving. Going home."

She nodded. What else could she do?

Beruka opened her hand, and in the quiet of the morning one could hear the chain running loose through her fingers. The ring hit the ground and stuck, a bright blue spot in the grey, and then Beruka shifted her foot and the mud ran over it and the blue was lost, swallowed up in the muck.

Benny stepped forward, reaching out with his hand. His voice was a low growl, an animal sound, but the concern there, the raw fear, made Selena ashamed with its honesty. "Beruka."

"Then go home, Selena. Return to the people who have earned your loyalty, who have done so much for your love that there is no room for this place, or for Lady Camilla, or for me."

That wasn't fair. Her throat was locked in a vice and if she didn't clamp her teeth together she was going to cry and that wasn't fair but she couldn't say it.

"Go home. Go home and don't come back."

Beruka turned from her, then, and she reached out across the gap and saw the other woman's back shift as she crossed her arms, she felt the anger pouring off of her so hot it was going to scald her hand through her gloves and she pulled back, but she had to say something, anything, she couldn't let this be it and Lady Camilla have been right, she couldn't let the last thing she did here to hurt someone so badly.

"Selena." Odin's voice, his hand on her shoulder. She turned, ready to bark some invective, and later she would say that she stopped because of the look on his face but that wasn't true. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

He pulled, gently, and she shrugged his hand off but it was there again, and she let him turn her and lead her away. He and Laslow said nothing, were mercifully quiet as they walked out of the yard. She said nothing, too, as much as she wanted to berate them, to dress them down for saying nothing back there, for not throwing themselves into the same thresher she had, for not being as stupid and petty and selfish as she was.

They were at the edge of the yard and, because she couldn't let go of that chance, she looked back. Benny's arms were around Beruka, and Beruka's arms were still crossed in front of her chest but she was leaning her head against him, hiding her face from the world.

So she said nothing as they left the yard, said nothing as they walked out of Windmire, nothing during the long walk to the woods where they wouldn't be seen taking their leave, nothing as Odin and Laslow found their voices. They joked back and forth, trying to cut through the mood, but they couldn't, and in time their joking died away and then all conversation did. That was fine. Honestly, that was fine, she didn't want to talk to anybody anyway, and it was easier if it was quiet.

Who needed Nohr, anyway? Who needed the people there?

Not her.


End file.
